Awakening
by FLECHER
Summary: In the aftermath of the attack on Quel'Thalas, many lives were left broken and devoid of hope. One rogue wakes, and finds that he was not spared of loss either...-Oneshot-


This is about Sarbuilas, my blood elf rogue on Sporeggar. He has pale skin and blue hair, and is rather closed off. This story takes place just after the undead Attack on Quel'Thalas, and Sarb wakes to find something utterly horrific...

* * *

Darkness, heat…fire?

Sarbuilas opened his eyes, his vision blurry before everything came into focus and he pushed himself up from the ground. He looked around himself, surrounded by the somehow standing walls of his broken home. Staggering through to the next room, the elf narrowed his eyes, letting out a growl as pain shot up his arm. Looking down, he saw that there was a deep gash in his upper arm.

"Mia…?" he muttered out, brushing back his dark messy hair, not held up in its usual foxtail style. "Mialla…?" he stumbled further, trying to clear his head, and trying so desperately to remember what just happened. His daughter! Sarbuilas's eyes widened, looking around sharply for the girl, now desperate to find her.

He remembered…before he was knocked out - she was crying out for "Papa". He heard a ghoul snarl in her room, the door burst open and struck him hard, knocking him out cold. But how had he been moved to the main room…? Had he been dragged? About to die just as the undead finished with them and left?

Sarbuilas couldn't care less about _why_ he had lived, he just wanted to know if he had a reason to still do so. Mialla's mother had died in childbirth, and Sarbuilas didn't think he could stand the loss of his little girl.

He clenched his hands tightly, hearing the leather of his gloves groan quietly from strain. "Mialla!" he roared loudly, throwing his head back and hearing his voice echo through his broken home.

"Papa…?" came a small, fearful voice. Sarbuilas turned quickly, a relieved smile on his face only for the brief figure of his little daughter to turn and run away. "Mialla!" he called after her, running quickly and leaping over debris. How had she gotten so fast? Sarbuilas grit his teeth and followed after Mialla nonetheless, disregarding everything else and chasing the his daughter to the far end of their home.

She came to a stop in his room, cowering under the wardrobe, there was quite enough space under there for her to crawl under. Mialla had used it frequently when playing hide and seek with her father, or when danger was near…

Sarbuilas carefully kneeled down, holding his hands out harmlessly and smiling warmly. "Mialla, don't worry…the undead are gone," he murmured gently, leaning down. "It's safe to come out," he tried to reassure the scared girl, keeping his tone even and calm. He just wanted to get his daughter and get out of this place.

A small cheerful giggle was heard under the wardrobe, and for reason's Sarbuilas violently refused to even acknowledge, the sound made his blood run cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, a frozen shiver running down his spine. "Is it…papa?" the little child giggled once more. She crawled out, standing up and causing her father to yell in horror and back away swiftly, falling over in an attempt to get away from her.

Sarbuilas's face was twitching, contorting in pain, anger and complete disbelief. No! No! NO! "NO!" he yelled out, his whole body shaking. His daughter was…

She tilted her head, smiling a smile that showed off many, wretchedly sharp teeth in her mouth. The ghoul in her room had gotten to her, and now she stood before him, three ragged claw marks tearing her once beautiful little face. Her eyes…they were nothing more than hollow black voids, a sickly green light shining out of them at him. "Papa…? What's wrong?" she asked, still giggling as she walked towards the older elf.

Sarbuilas backed up swiftly, on his feet until he felt his back press against the wall behind him. His eyes were wide and distraught, this couldn't be his girl, his precious little child! Her once shining golden locks were plastered wetly against her skull and face, and her hands reached up to him-

_Mialla reached her hands up; a toddler once more. Sarbuilas smiled and laughed softly, picking his daughter up and tickling her, making her giggle happily._

Sarbuilas screamed, clutching his skull and closing his eyes tightly. This wasn't happening! This couldn't be real! NO!

He felt her cold, clawed hand rest of his shoulder and screamed again, kicking a foot back against the wall and leaping half way across the room from the force of his push. "Hold me, papa! I'm so scared!" she cried out, that vicious smile spreading into a grin as her teeth gnashed together hungrily, and the glow in her eyes brightened.

Sarbuilas turned, tearing open the doors of his wardrobe and hastily throwing things in his way, over his shoulder. He reached a box in a matter of seconds and tore it open as well, not caring he had broken its hinges in doing so.

Mialla giggled coldly, poking her father's waist. "What are you doing Papa?" she asked, innocently but with such a bloodthirsty look in her dead eyes.

Sarbuilas tensed; closing his eyes for a second.

_Mialla laughed again, running away as her father chased after, a warm smile on his face. He caught and hugged her, ruffling her hair gently, causing her to whine and pout. Sarbuilas grinned and smoothed her hair, causing her to smile happily. _

That was last thing he placed in his mind - Mialla's beautiful smile.

The man let out a dreadful wail and slammed his fist aside, striking the **Undead** and knocking **it **away from him. Mialla yelped sharply, before growling and gnashing her teeth again. She snarled and dived for him, trying to claw her father's stomach.

Sarbuilas grit his teeth, ignoring the tears suddenly streaming from his eyes as he slammed both his fists down, the two shining daggers he held sinking with a sharp thud into Mialla's shoulders.

The girl screeched like a wretched ghost, and before she could try to hurt him again, the older elf cried out and slashed the large dagger across her already torn throat, severing her head.

Mialla's half rotted body was still for a moment, twitching faintly until it collapsed ungracefully onto the wooden floor.

The silence was thick and heavy, for several long moments, and the only sound, was Sarbuilas's ragged breathing. It started to jerk, and become shallow, until a wretched yowl tore itself from his chest. He threw the daggers away, picking up an already broken piece of furniture and tossing it away, the wood shattering apart with a crash. He screamed, wailed and yowled again, tearing apart anything he could place his hands on, anything to try and take away the pain and sorrow that was ripping his heart to shreds.

It took hours for the elf to tire, and he eventually collapsed outside his home, face down in the upturned earth.

When next he woke, Sarbuilas found himself in the care of elves, his people. He also found, that his entire family had be slaughtered in the attack.

Much to the surprise of the priests, he didn't react.

Something had been taken from the rogue on that day, and he didn't want to think what it was, and never wanted to remember why it had been taken.

He only wanted to forget, and perhaps, by some stroke of luck, find forgiveness…

* * *

I think I may have an issue to be so cruel to my character...

R&R ^_^


End file.
